


Inevitable

by AlleiraDayne



Series: Bang Your Head (Metal Health) [29]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Cullen, Cullen Rutherford Fluff, Cullen Rutherford Smut, Cullen Smut, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 13:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: Cullen visits Amodisia next door for dinner.





	Inevitable

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/138010791@N02/36279829813/in/datetaken-public/)

_You should hang out with Sia. I bet she’ll be bored, too._

Last week, Amallia’s idea sounded great. With her out of town for work and Alistair spending late hours at the clinic, Cullen imagined Amodisia appreciating his company.

But now that he stood in the Theirin’s kitchen, he regretted ever agree with his wife. He regretted ever calling Amodisia. And as she bent to take their dinner out of the oven, another pang of guilt wracked his nerves, accompanied by a rush of arousal.

Maker’s breath, but her shorts were… _short_. And her top–what little fabric comprised of her top–barely covered her, loose over her breasts swaying with her every move and her midriff bare.  Whether he sweat from the heat of the oven or her revealing attire, Cullen cared not one wit.

_Void take me, please let it be the oven._

“You seem tense, sweetheart,” she stated over her shoulder as she set the pot on the stove top. “Something wrong?”

No. His fantasies guilted him, but why? Maybe that was part of the allure, part of why Amodisia Theirin–Amodisia _Amell_ when they’d first met–wound him tighter than any other woman. Not that Amallia didn’t do the same, but they were married, and what sexual pleasures they shared belonged within the confines of that relationship. But of late, Amodisia staked a claim, her own little spot in his subconscious, surfacing at the most inopportune moments.

Pure and simple, Cullen coveted his neighbor’s wife.

Except coveting suggested an unmet desire, an unfulfilled wish, and Cullen’s intimate knowledge of Amodisia spanned several lustful nights. However, the four always shared one another, Alistair giving him advice, and Amallia approving and encouraging him with her impish smile and insatiable appetite, never alone.

Until now. And the possibility of having their way with one another rattled him to his core.

She knew. She must. Her devious emerald gaze and the purposeful sway in her hips meant nothing else. Right?

“Cullen?”

Lost so deep in his fantasies, Cullen missed her warmth radiating from her until it suffocated him, filling his nose with the scent of grass and mint and sage. Standing mere inches apart, he drank her in from head to toe, eyes sliding from her face to ravage her body.

Andraste preserve him, but he loved that top.

“Hm?”

Oh, without a doubt, she knew. A crooked smirk hooked the corner of her mouth, following his eyes to her plunging neckline.

“I wore it for you,” she admitted. “Thought it would make my intent obvious. So you wouldn’t talk yourself out of it.”

Intentional. Then that meant…

“Can I ask you something, Sia?”

She stepped between his feet, closing the distance between them. Bodies flush, he froze as her breasts squeezed against his chest and her hands smoothed over his shoulders to link behind his neck. “You can ask me anything.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

A surprised blink popped her eyes wide and then a pink hue colored her cheeks. Sheepish, she muttered under her breath. “Since we met.”

“You mean when we met again at the benefit in Redcliffe?” he asked.

“No,” she insisted, her eyes finding his. “I mean the moment we met at Calenhad University. When you transferred. You were playing rugby with Alistair. He introduced us after practice.”

 _That_ day? She remembered that? “Maker, Sia, I must have looked like shit.”

She giggled at that. “Oh, I beg the differ. I thought your sweaty curls and muddy, grass-stained uniform were… more than attractive.”

An absent hand reached out for her exposed backside, a grin curling his lips. “You like your men a little dirty?”

“The dirtier, the better,” she whispered. “Alistair’s as dirty as they come.”

With a growl, Cullen grasped her by the ass and hoisted her onto the island counter. Amodisia’s giggle roused his confidence, and the spread of her thighs accommodating him stiffened his length, straining against his pants. His hand slipped along her hip and beneath her top to cup one of her heavy breasts, the pert nipple puckering her shit. Breathless gasps and writhing hips begged him for more, and he obliged with eagerness. “You think your husband’s dirty? I bet I could give him a run for his money.”

She scoffed a disbelieving sound through her nose. “And how would you do that, Mr. Rutherford?” she whispered, lips brushing his ear.

He thought a moment, mind spinning with myriad fantasies and enthralled by narrow swathe of denim covering her sex. “What kind of toys do you have?”

“Oh quite a few,” she said with another giggle. “But he uses them on me all the time.”

 _Perfect_.

The light in her eyes burst into a million stars as he spoke.

“Why don’t we try using one on me?”


End file.
